Sour Silence
by Mal Doran
Summary: They were the closest of friends, once. But now, as she visits, the air is full of unsaid things and bitter goodbyes. She visits, making space and time week after week, month after month, year after year. They say nothing, because it has all been said before.


Regina appears in Maleficent's castle late one night as if she owns the tall, dark tower hidden among mountains covered in snow. She spawns in a swirl of faintly purple-colored smoke in one of the many corridors. By now, she knows the castle like the back of her hand; each corner and false step on each winding marble staircase, halls and halls for days it seems. The library, full of books that look newly-acquired but Regina knows for a fact that some and most are as old as herself. The wide kitchen, empty of all servants because there are none; the garden, full of (not roses, never roses) poisonous vines and entangled ivies and plants that snap and bite at you like you're their dinner, (those ones only ever obey Maleficent) and Maleficent's room, where weapons lie on the walls and her unicorn shares her bed. There are many extra rooms, some completely empty asides from years-old cobwebs and dust and others full to the brim with various things, and spiders that skitter out from underneath all those aforementioned things if you open the door. And Maleficent's throne room, wide and mostly empty except for a fireplace and a few chairs, and yet more weapons on the wall.

Yes, she has had a long time to map out this entire castle in her mind, and she no longer gets lost in the depths of its loneliness. Often, Regina wonders how Maleficent could possibly live here, alone for years and years with the brunette as her only contact asides from some stray visitors who never leave the castle and her pets. (yes, Regina knows very well the ravens that circle the tower are far more than just annoying birds) But after a while, she comes to realize that she is as alone as Maleficent.

Her footsteps, however quiet they may be, still echo in the shadowy hallways; an eerie sound, but Regina has grown far too used to it to be unsettled anymore. A raven lands on her shoulder and she is hardly startled, batting at it. (but gently, as Regina knows exactly what Maleficent will do to her if she harms one of her oh-so precious, precious birds) To no one's surprise and certainly not hers, it does not leave, shrieking obnoxiously in her ear; the noise resounds from the walls, bouncing back at her like a warning call. It clicks its beak, digging claws through thick black silk and lifting off with a cry. She pauses to watch it soar off, and knows for a fact it will never reach one obstacle it cannot sail smoothly through or around; all the birds in this place are as old as the castle itself.

There is a certain sort of morbidity to this place; even after all these years it has not worn off. The castle is never completely dark; it is always lit up with torches along the walls or dim light that comes from nowhere in particular, priceless diamond and onyx chandeliers with a dozen-or-so candles on flame. It is her choice, she knows; her choice to live in solitude after her banishment. But still, Regina ponders - wishes to bring her friend out into the open again and reintroduce her to the world. But that would not be appreciated, so she leaves settled matters well alone and makes a point to visit often.

It is the least she can do. After all, not even Maleficent is immune to insanity; and without true, human company, it will overtake her. Regina has seen it happen before.

She curls her fingers around the ancient, runed doorknob and twists, not bothering to knock beforehand. Maleficent ignores manners, even though hers are instinctively impeccable. She sees the top of her friend's blonde head (in which the crown she knows so well perches, polished to every point and curve, purple and glittering) before she even enters the room. The door slams shut behind her.

She falls gracefully into the second chair beside Maleficent's own, peering at the blonde with a sort of curiosity. She is beautiful as ever; her long hair flows in ringlets as it always has, settling artfully around her shoulders. Her floor-length purple gown raises upward into thick ruffles at the shoulders, cinched tightly - with the help of a silver band - at the waist. It dips at the cleavage into a daring 'v' shape, and the familiarity of it all makes her smile. "Hello, old friend."

"Hello, dear," she replies, and the light voice only makes her smile widen. She wraps her fingers around the cup of hot chocolate offered to her, taking a long sip from it.

"How have you been?" Regina questions, watching Maleficent from over the rim of her cup. The blonde stiffens briefly, then relaxes, but she does not answer the question for a long moment.

"I have been fine," she finally answers, her voice cool and flowing as she smiles freely at Regina. "And you, darling?"

They talk of nothing in particular, but most of the time spent in this visit is taken up by silence and sips of hot cocoa. Regina watches Maleficent and vice versa, but they hardly fill up the empty space with conversation. But it is a comfortable quiet, and Regina settles into the warmth of the chair, warming her hands around her cup, and she is startled out of her thoughts by a sudden laugh from the blonde.

"Here we sit, old friend," the dragon-shifter mutters, "Having run out of topics to speak of. A little disappointing, isn't it? Considering just how many topics are available." Her voice is bittersweet, and Regina understands all too well and all too much, so she reaches forward in response and covers the Mistress of All Evil's hand with her own, and they sit and sit and sit and do not talk.

Later, she stands and turns and is at the door when she decides to speak. "Farewell, dear."

The door shuts so she does not hear a response - not that she expects one - and as she leaves, she thinks she's grown just a little bit sadder.

But she still comes back, every time.


End file.
